


My hand was on your knee

by pollitt



Category: Castle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollitt/pseuds/pollitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>”When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.” -- Arrigo Boito</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	My hand was on your knee

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Maverick and Data for their read through. Rampant Shakespeare quoting is all me.
> 
> Set after episode 3.19 "Law & Murder"

It’s well past the witching hour by the time Esposito unlocks the door to his apartment and steps inside, followed close on his heels by Ryan.

“Seriously, why can’t bad guys just admit they did a bad bad thing? Why do they insist on claiming innocence so damn often?” he asks, throwing the locks on the door and kicking off his shoes at the same time.

“If it was that easy, they wouldn’t pay us the big bucks,” Ryan says, his hand curling around Esposito’s shoulder for support as he pulls off his own shoes.

Esposito laughs, and a minute later Ryan’s hand is gone and he hears Ryan’s socked feet padding toward the bedroom. Before he hears the _click_ of the bedroom light switch, Esposito calls out, “Beer?”

“I would give all my fame for a pot of ale,” Ryan answers from the other room. “And an evening on the couch with you, and no interruptions from the outside world.”

“From your lips.” Esposito grabs two beers out of the fridge and turns when he hears Ryan exit the bedroom. “May our oaths well kept and prosp'rous be.”

“Do I look like a French-speaking princess to you?” Ryan asks, his vest half on the hanger in his hand and the loose ends of his tie hanging around his neck.

Esposito can see the first three buttons of Ryan's shirt have been undone as well and he smiles--he loves these moments, when the prim and proper Detective Ryan, with his shirt and tie and vest and natty blazers is hung up and Kevin, the white t-shirt and jeans, the college sweatshirt and track pants guy comes out.

“I would hope that you’d at least consider me a fellow soldier. A brother in arms."

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” Javi asks, a grin on his face. “You're my partner, of course you're a brother in arms. In more ways than one. But given that I don’t have other any other Shakespeare memorized like I do some Henry Vee--it’s practically require in the Army, bro--and the only other option is a big, fat, heart-breaking traitor, I figured the French princess thing would be the lesser of two evils. Plus, Henry really dug Kate a whole helluva lot, so, you know... It’s fitting.”

Kevin’s face is a kaleidoscope of emotions--momentary confusion which turns into surprise, amusement, and finally settling into a smile that makes his eyes flash as blue as Javi’s ever seen them.

“Javi.” Kevin’s voice is a little breathless, and since they guy has no poker face to speak of, every thought is being broadcast in high definition. It makes Javi’s skin feel tight.

He could say something funny, could play it cool like he didn’t just almost totally say in so many words, _Kevin Ryan, I love you_. But it’s been a long day and it's late, and Kevin has a key to Javi's apartment and his clothes are here. Kevin deserves to hear it.

“I thought about memorizing a sonnet, but that’s not me. It’s you and me until the wheels fall off. And after that, too. Basically until you get tired of my sorry, but fine, ass.”

“I can, with more than a reasonable certainty, assure you that will be happening half past never,” Kevin says.

With the hanger and the half-hung vest still in his hands, Kevin moves into the kitchen and into Javi’s space. He leans into that space, his eyes already closed and kisses Javi, whose hands are still clutching two beers and whose eyes stay open for a moment longer before they close, and Javi tilts his head to get a better angle on the kiss.

When Kevin steps back, the word that comes to Javi’s mind to describe his smile is _beatific_. “That goes for me too, you know.”

“Yeah, I do.”

/fin


End file.
